


Suspended in the Light of Morning

by caliecat



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst, Family, Flash Fic, Friendship, Gen, Mother's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-23
Updated: 2011-05-23
Packaged: 2017-10-19 17:02:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caliecat/pseuds/caliecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's thoughts on the eve of Mother's Day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suspended in the Light of Morning

_Nineteen years._

Steve wishes he knew when it was supposed to end, this hidden grief that lies beneath the surface, ever ready to ambush him when he least expects it, when his guard is down and he's helpless to fight off the weight of it.

His team is sprawled across his living room watching the run-up to the Derby, Grace with her enormous floppy hat smothered with tissue-paper roses and curly ribbons, Kono already flushed from too many mint juleps, Chin and Danny debating odds and making bets and even Jenna's there, too, smiling non-stop in gratitude for the invitation and looking like a kid herself in those huge glasses and faded college T-shirt.

He stands in the kitchen doorway and drinks it all in, filled with pride for what they've created together, the welcome sound of their laughter floating over the voice of the TV announcer, the clear morning light streaming through the windows and brightening the dark corners of his house with sunshine. Everything's fine, the memories tucked away where they belong, until Jenna asks Grace about her plans for Mother's Day.

"Oh!" Grace bounces up from her perch atop the hassock, her own personal grandstand. "Mommy and I are going to _high tea_ , just the two of us. We're getting dressed up and we're having those sandwiches with the crusts cut off and cake and special cookies like they eat in England because Mommy said she and her mom did that when she was little so now we go every year. And then later, after that...um...after we...."

Her smile falters along with her voice while the rest of the group falls silent. He gradually realizes that everyone's eyes are on him and wonders how his face betrayed him this time.

"Looks like we need more food out here," he says with as much heartiness as he can muster. "Grace, you want anything?"

"No thank you," she murmurs, sliding down to the floor, then runs to Danny and ducks her head into his chest.

Defeated by an enemy he can't see, he slips back into the kitchen and pulls open the refrigerator door only to stare sightlessly at the contents, his stomach churning and his mind blank.  A beat or two later he hears footsteps and knows who it is without needing to look behind him.

"Listen Danny, I didn't—"

"So tomorrow morning after I drop off Grace," Danny says, as though Steve isn't speaking at all, "I'll call my mom and we'll talk for awhile, by then it will be afternoon there and she'll tell me all about the food my sisters brought over, the gifts from my nieces and nephews, complain about my brothers-in-law not working hard enough, worry that Pop is eating too much rich food but won't listen to his doctors because he thinks he knows better, which come to think of it sounds an awful lot like another stubborn goof I know."

He hears the smile and turns, grateful for the olive branch. Danny is leaning back against the counter with folded arms, assessing him in a way that's at once unnerving in its intensity and comforting in its familiarity.

"That sounds great," Steve says, thinking how much he would give for just one more phone call.

"Sure, it'll be great, all of that is fine but it's not the same as being there. And I should be, especially this year, after everything she went through, what they all went through..."

Matt's name remains unsaid but his presence poisons the air. Steve would do anything to erase the shadow of bitter defeat that crosses Danny's face.

"She would have liked you, my mom," he blurts out, not sure where that came from but certain of its truth. "She would have said you were...scrappy."

"Scrappy?" Danny frowns, affronted. "That's what we called the stray dogs who lived on the street and ate out of our garbage cans."

"Well, until I got hold of you, you kind of were, right?" Danny snorts in disgust, leans forward and punches him lightly on the arm but Steve's relieved to see he's smiling again. "And you would have liked her, too. I wish you could have met her."

Along with a million other wishes that will never come true. His own smile fades as the old phrase rushes back to him: _If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. _

"I already have."

"What?" He's startled, wondering how he missed part of their conversation.

But then Danny lays his hand, palm down, on Steve's chest, right over his heart. "She's still here," he says, holding Steve's gaze. "That's how I know her."

He freezes, speechless, swept up by a rising tide of emotion, not grief this time but something else that catches in his throat and burns his eyes as the warmth of Danny's hand seeps through his shirt, lighting up his own shadowed corners.

From the other room comes Grace's shout, "Hurry Daddy, the parade is starting!" and then singing, her high clear voice mingled with Kono, Chin and Jenna's along with the thousands at Churchill Downs.

 _The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home..._

And maybe it's okay, he thinks, as the sweet sound washes over him, to give yourself up to the pull of the current sometimes and not fight back, as long as someone's there to guide you safely back to shore. When he feels steady enough he curves his hand over Danny's, squeezes once and then shifts his grip, tugs at Danny's wrist and leads him into the other room, toward sunlight and song and family.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at [](http://h50-flashfic.livejournal.com/profile)[**h50_flashfic**](http://h50-flashfic.livejournal.com/) for the "Celebrations" challenge. Comments are always appreciated.


End file.
